Chapter 27 #2
“She took everything from me.” Morgan's voice was cold now, controlled in the way that came from pure hatred distilled to its essence, refined into something deadly.
“Connor was mine. That baby should have been mine.
The life they're building? It was supposed to be my life. The future I planned, the access my father needed, all of it. And she stole it with her pathetic victim routine and her convenient friendship with him. So I want her gone, Silas. Permanently.”
The silence on the other end of the line stretched. Morgan could hear traffic in the background, Silas was somewhere public, somewhere he had to be careful with his words, careful about what got overheard.
When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but clear. “Ms. Ashford, what you're suggesting is significantly more serious than property acquisition or intimidation tactics. The legal consequences if this goes wrong—”
“I don't care about the consequences.” And she didn't. Consequences were for people who had something to lose, who had futures that mattered. Morgan had already lost everything that mattered when Connor chose Harper over her. “Can you do it or not?”
“I'll need to consult with my contacts.” Silas’ careful word choice made his meaning crystal clear without saying anything actionable. “But Ms. Ashford, I must advise you that this level of escalation carries substantial risk. For everyone involved, including you.”
“Then manage the risk. That's what you're good at, isn't it?” Morgan watched as Connor and Harper climbed into his truck, still smiling, still glowing with that nauseating happiness that should have been hers.
“I want her gone, Silas. I want her to suffer. I want her to understand what she took from me before she—”
Morgan stopped herself, but barely. Even in her rage, some instinct for self-preservation kicked in, some remaining shred of rationality. You didn't explicitly say murder over the phone, even on an encrypted line, even when you were past caring about consequences.
“Before what happens next,” she finished, her voice deadly quiet.
“I understand.” Silas’ voice was professional now, businesslike in the way that meant he was already planning. “I'll speak with someone and contact you with options. Once certain actions are taken, there's no taking them back, no undoing them.”
“I don't want to take anything back. I want Harper to regret ever meeting Connor.
I want her to suffer the way I'm suffering, to lose everything the way I've lost everything.” Morgan's voice dropped to a whisper that was somehow more chilling than her earlier shouts.
“And then I want her gone. Erased. Like she never existed.”
“Understood. We'll be in touch within twenty-four hours with a plan.”
Silas disconnected, and Morgan sat alone in her car, watching Connor's truck pull away from the clinic. Watching her future drive off with another woman. Watching everything she'd worked for, everything she'd planned, disappear down Main Street in a cloud of dust.
Her phone buzzed with a text from Armand, who must have been conferenced in somehow and heard enough to understand what was being planned.
Unknown
This is a mistake. Escalation to this level draws too much attention. Recommend reconsidering.
Morgan's response was immediate, her fingers flying over the screen.
I'm not reconsidering. Make it happen or I'll find someone who will.
Unknown
Your funeral. Literally, if this goes wrong.
Then make sure it doesn't go wrong.
She pocketed her phone and started driving, no destination in mind, she just needed to move before the rage made her do something stupid right here in the middle of town.
The afternoon sun glinted off her hood, momentarily blinding, and she took savage pleasure in pressing the accelerator harder than necessary, in making the engine roar.
The town passed by in a blur of familiar streets and buildings she'd known for the last few years, landmarks that had once meant something.
The coffee shop where she and Connor had gone on their first date.
The restaurant where they'd celebrated his birthday last year, where she'd thought maybe he'd propose but he'd just given her a nice dinner and a polite kiss.
All of it was poisoned now. Ruined by Harper's existence, by her refusal to just fucking die when she was supposed to.
She doesn't deserve him. Doesn't deserve that baby. Doesn't deserve to be happy when I'm not, when she's destroyed my entire future. The thought circled and circled, growing darker with each repetition, feeding on itself until it was all Morgan could think about.
By the time Morgan pulled into her apartment complex she'd made peace with her decision.
Harper Walsh had to disappear. Not just leave town. Not just lose her business and her home and her sense of security like they'd been trying to accomplish.
She had to die.
And if the baby died with her? Well, that was Harper's fault for getting pregnant in the first place. For stealing Connor. For ruining everything Morgan had planned. For existing when she should have burned in that apartment fire.
Morgan climbed out of her car, her heels clicking on the pavement with sharp finality that echoed in the parking garage.
She looked like she always did, perfectly composed and professionally dressed in designer clothes.
Exactly the kind of woman who worked at the county records office, volunteered at town events and dated successful ranch owners.
No one would ever suspect her.
That was her greatest strength. Her perfect disguise. The mask she'd worn so long it had become part of her face, indistinguishable from her real self.
Now it was time to reveal the true woman beneath the mask.
The monster who would do whatever it took to get what she wanted.
Even if it meant murder